


with diamonds

by xivz



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carry On Tarot, Character Development, Escaping Toxic Relationships, F/M, Family Feels, Feelings, Gathering the strength to carry on, POV Lucy Salisbury, Pre-Canon, Realistic, The Empress - Freeform, Toxic Relationships, Unrequited Love, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xivz/pseuds/xivz
Summary: Lucy Salisbury never thought that she'd be pregnant at the age of 22, she never thought that she'd be a vessel for the Greatest Mage, and she especially never thought that she'd lose her magic in the process.And now? Now she's realizing that Davy may not love her the way that she hoped. The longer she stays with him, the more frightened she's becoming of him. There's only one thing that Lucy can do—but will she be able to escape Davy before it's too late? Or will she be forced to stay by his side and possibly lose her life after giving birth to their child?
Relationships: Lucy Salisbury & Simon Snow, The Mage/Lucy Salisbury
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47
Collections: Carry_On_Tarot_Collection





	with diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to **[sconelover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconelover/pseuds/sconelover)** for beta reading! Without them this fic wouldn't have been fully fleshed out as it has. And thank you for **[giishu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/giishu/profile)** too! For listening to my lamenting about this story and being a kind friend.
> 
> ***
> 
>  _Card:_ The Empress
> 
>  _Meaning:_ The Empress is traditionally associated with maternal influence, it is the card if you are hoping to start a family. She can represent the creation of life, romance, art, or new business.
> 
> *Upright card (keywords): Pregnancy, Nurturing, Abundance, Maternal care, A new opportunity, Stability  
> *Reversed card (keywords): Financial issues, Stagnation, Domestic problems, Unwanted pregnancy

_Picture yourself in a boat on a river_

_With tangerine trees and marmalade skies_

_Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly_

_A girl with kaleidoscope eyes_

_Cellophane flowers of yellow and green_

_Towering over your head_

_Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes_

_And she's gone_

_— Lucy in the sky with Diamonds (the Beatles)_

* * *

“I’ll be back tonight,” Davy says to me as he shoves his feet into his trainers. He’s got a wrinkle forming between his brows as he looks me over. I’m sitting on the sofa with a book on my lap, watching him tie his laces. “I could stay; I could miss this one.”

He’s talking about the Coven meeting regarding reforms to Watford. 

“Nonsense.” A part of me aches that I can’t say the word with any sort of magic. Still, I smile softly at him, hoping that it comes off as assuring. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. He needs to go. I need the time alone. “I’ll be fine for a few hours.”

Davy nods, his blue eyes taking me in. He’s handsome; he’s gotten better looking as we’ve gotten older. I wonder if our child will take after him, with his bronze hair and dimpled chin. “Alright, if anything arises, just send a bird.”

“Of course,” I say cheerfully. I can’t let him suspect that I don’t plan on being here when he returns. 

Davy leaves without any sort of goodbye, not even a kiss. It sends my heart plummeting to my stomach, but I have to shrug off any sort of disappointment and focus on what’s important.

Something isn’t right with my baby. I’m steadily becoming weaker, and I don’t think that’s normal, but Davy refuses to let me see a doctor. He’s afraid that we’ll be caught and arrested by the Coven for doing illegal magic. He’s rarely left my side since that day when we did the ritual. I’m beginning to regret it. 

Honestly, I’m so tired these days. I’ll fall asleep nearly anywhere, and my appetite is ravenous. All I do is eat and sleep and repeat, which I think sounds normal, but I still want to see a doctor. I want to make sure because I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. 

It feels as if the baby is sucking all of my magic from me. The more the baby grows, the more I feel as if it’s a black hole. 

I don’t think this is normal. And Davy won’t listen to me; he’s so wrapped up in his prophecies and trying to ensure that I stay in bed. I haven’t told him that I hardly have enough magic to even spell **A Little Bird Told Me** to anyone. The nearest village is an hour walk down the hill—I’d walk, I’d take the risk and go into the village and make a call, only Davy is always here. He never leaves, and he’s beginning to scare me. 

I’m starting to understand Mitali’s perspective of Davy. I still love him, I think I’ll always love him deeply, but our relationship is strained. He either forgets I’m there or dotes on me nonstop to make sure that the baby is comfortable. It’s sweet, but I’m suspecting that he sees me as little more than a vessel for our child. 

I absentmindedly rub at my swollen belly, allowing the material of my old Watford rugby jersey to scratch against my skin. It’s the only thing that fits me, the jersey and a pair of stretched-out track shorts. My feet are too swollen for my trainers these days, so most of the time I’m barefoot.

However, today I’ve managed to squeeze my feet into an old pair of Davy’s sandals. It feels odd wearing them, but they’re a reminder that today is going to be different from my monotonous routine.

The kitchen window faces the road and the woods. I can see Davy’s Jeep driving away. My heart is in my throat as I think about the plan that I’ve been stewing on for months. It’s a bold move, one that would make Davy so angry with me. The thought of getting caught by him almost renders me immobile. 

Until I feel a kick against my hand, and my resolve strengthens. I’m doing this for my baby. My baby, who is innocent and relies so heavily on me to make sure that it stays safe. My little Rose Winifred or Simon Snow. 

I twist my hair up into a bun and use my wand to hold it in place before carefully waddling toward the bedroom to grab my satchel. There’s not much here for me. Davy killed my chickens and those were the only things I cared about. Other than Davy— and with luck, he’s near London by now. 

Is it normal to fear the one that you love dearest? Is it normal to be so isolated the way I have been this last year? Even with him here, he was never within my grasp, and I tried. I tried so hard to keep him here with me, and now there’s a child involved. 

When we first agreed to have a baby, I had been hoping that it would fix the frisson that formed between Davy and I. It was an idiotic idea, and the further along I’ve gotten in the pregnancy, the more I’ve begun to notice how I shouldn’t be here, in Wales, with Davy. I should be at home, with people who will help me properly. I love Davy so much, but I love my child more. All Davy has been talking about is how our baby is the Chosen One, but that’s not a fair title to put on a child. Our child—my child—deserves to be happy and healthy and loved for who they are, not what they are. 

I pack what little clothing that I have and reach into the back of my underwear drawer for the money that I’ve been steadily saving. It’s been difficult to come by any money. Davy is in charge of our funds, but I do his laundry. Any time he accidentally leaves a few notes in his pockets, I’ve been stowing them away. I don’t think I even have enough for a bus ticket, and if I do it’s all I’ll be able to afford. I make sure that I pack a few water bottles and some snacks with me. 

I’m already feeling drained and all I’ve done is roam the cottage. I’m winded by the time I remember to grab the last photo Davy and I took together: us at our Leavers Ball. It was framed on the mantle of the fireplace, but now it’s tucked safely inside of my bag. My bag, which is a little heavier than I anticipated, but I’ll carry it. I must. 

The summer heat almost has me hesitating, and sticking to the road makes me nervous. What if Davy comes back and sees me? What would he do? Would he do anything to me while I’m still pregnant? Would he spell me so that I can never leave? My hands tremble as I take one step away from the cottage. Then another. One step at a time. 

I should have grabbed a hat to protect my head and face, but I’ve been walking for twenty minutes and refuse to go back. It’s been a struggle—my back aches and my feet are sore and I have to use to the loo, but I’m not stopping until I reach my destination. 

The sun is high and beaming. What I wouldn't give to be able to do a weatherization spell, something to bring on a slight overcast. Any sort of protection against the happy rays that are burning my face and shoulders. I fumble with my bag as I walk, grabbing my water from it without stopping.The goal is to stay hydrated, for the baby if nothing else. 

It feels as if it takes me twice as long to get to the village than it ought to have. I’m disgustingly sweaty and my body hurts and I’m so tired that I fear I may faint. The feeling of the baby shifting against my ribs causes me to wince and push against whatever body part it decided to jab me with. It’s almost as if the baby is trying to push me to keep going. 

The train station isn’t too far into the village, thankfully. The clerk behind the glass takes pity on me and offers me a ticket to London at a discount, but it still takes a large amount of money from my meager savings. I give him my best smile and wait anxiously for the next train to arrive; I’ve a forty-minute wait. 

I use the loo, rinse the sweat off of my face, and try to clean all of the dust from the road off of my legs with a damp hand towel. I stare at my reflection once I’m as clean as I can get. My face is flushed underneath my freckles, my curly blonde hair is a frazzled mess atop my head, my belly is protruding—larger than it’s ever been. Do I look like I’ve just run away? Can people tell that I’ve escaped? Is it escaping? Or is it ending a relationship, leaving my bleeding heart behind with the man that I love because I love my unborn child too much to allow this to continue?

Is the baby a mistake? No, that’s not something I should ever think about. Because it’s not. None of this is the baby’s fault. 

Once I’m in London I can use a public phone and call someone. Anyone. I’m related to a majority of the Old Families. One of my many cousins can get me, or Mitali, or—my throat closes again and I swallow the lump that’s forming—my mother. 

My mother threatened to disown me if I ran off with Davy. She didn’t approve of him, said that he was trouble. Said he didn’t love me the way I thought. Said that he was probably using me for my name. Because Davy isn’t from an Old Family, Davy isn’t rich. He’s from the middle of nowhere, Wales. He lives in his grandmother’s cottage that’s held together with magic and duct tape. He’s obsessed with oracles and prophecies and trying to make Watford a fair place for any child with any amount of magic in their blood. Even those who have very little magic, like my brother, Oliver. 

I could call Oliver. He doesn’t go to Coven meetings if he can help it—he knows what people say about him. That he’s a dud. Which is rubbish. If my baby were to come out like Oliver, I wouldn’t care. I’d love my child all the same. Maybe a little more, because the magickal community is full of posh wankers—half of which are related to me. 

I’ll worry about who to contact once I get to London, once I’m out of Wales. I didn’t even write Davy a letter explaining why I left. He didn’t kiss me goodbye before he drove off, and I knew then that it was going to be the last time I would see him. It would be the last time I would allow him to see me. I have to be strong, for the baby. I’m doing this for us, for me and my unborn child. 

The train arrives sooner than expected, which I take as a positive sign. I watch as it screeches to a halt on the platform, my insides knotting at the sight.

People step off and other’s begin to board. This is it. Months of planning have all been for this moment, and if I don’t get on the train then I’ve lost my only chance at—at what? Seeing my family again? Seeing Mitali? I wonder if Davy would have allowed them to come to visit once the baby was born. Would our baby soften him?

I almost go back to the cottage. I almost give up this entire endeavor. Why would I leave Davy? He loves me. He loves this baby as much as I do; is it fair to leave him like this? I try to think of our time together, of how he never outright said that he loved me. I always thought it was because Davy was a man who was shy about his emotions, but he was passionate about creating the Chosen One. The Greatest Mage. He was sure about all of the prophecies. I think the only thing he was sure about me was my magic, and my willingness. He had me wrapped around his finger. I let myself be—wrapped up in him, that is.

A kick to my ribs steals my breath away, and the piercing whistle of the train snaps me out of my thoughts. Crowley, what am I doing? I gather my courage and board the train, my bag resting heavily on my back.

I take a seat by the window and lean back, spreading my legs out before me as best as I can, and wiggling my swollen toes. Davy will look for me; he may even find me, but as long as I can get to safety, there’s nothing that he can truly do to me. I’ll protect this baby with my teeth if I must, and with how quickly I’m losing my magic, it may come down to that.

“Alright, baby,” I say while rubbing my belly again. It’s a nervous tick. It’s a reminder to myself that I’m not alone in this.

My baby. My rosebud baby, he said that we were stars. But you, my little one, you are a supernova, and I’ll make sure that you’ll shine the brightest that you can. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a abusive relationship for a long time, and when I became pregnant I decided to leave. The fear that follows that is very real, along with the feeling of being imbalanced and lost. But having the strength to carry on, and move forward, of not going back, of doing it all for your baby—it's what inspired this fic.
> 
> Anyway, come say hi to me on **[tumblr](https://xivz.tumblr.com/)**!


End file.
